Who Has the Holliday Spirit?
by Kid Kokopelli
Summary: It's xmas eave, and the CSI team is a little dreery because they have to work. But there's always the ones who try to lighten up the mood, like Greg, of course. But who could possibly have more holliday spirit than Greg, the labtech raindeer? And what


Jolly Ol' Gil

There was the hum of lab machinery, the beeping of computer databases and the bustle of shift change- swing shift to night shift- all accompanied by the continuous wuzza wuzza of the perpetual chatter that buzzed among the CSIs and lab techs. The typical talk, hear-say, and overall BS rumors.

However, on this special night that only came around once a year, the CSI graveyard shift was in for what would be the beginnings of some of the most tell-tale rumors to ever float around the CSI HQ for the next several years.

Catherine plopped down in a chair in the break room where the team would gather and await their assignments from their always casually late boss. Soon, she was joined by Nick, who was looking unusually giddy for someone who had to work on Christmas Eve.

"My-my, someone sure has the holiday spirit…" Catherine said bitterly, biting into one of the apples that had been conveniently left on the counter, next to the microwave.

Nick shrugged with a grin the size of Texas plastered across his face.

"What can I say? I'm just looking forward to a really good shift tonight."

She scoffed, eyeing Nick suspiciously as he proceeded to plop down in a chair across the table from her.

"Okay' what's up?"

"What do you mean?" Nick asked, looking disgustingly innocent.

"That goofy grin on your face, you look like you just got laid."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Catherine."

"Don't play coy with me, Nicky," Catherine persisted as she leaned across the table, then whispered conspiratorially, "C'mon, fess up."

The distinct, deep voice of Warrick Brown suddenly broke the hush of the room.

"Fess what up?"

Nick and Catherine looked up at him to find that Sara was also there, standing beside him.

"Oh nothing," Catherine began, all too casually as she leaned back in her chair, "Nicky, here, was just about to explain the ridiculous look on his face."

Nick's ear to ear grin didn't falter as he shook his head and replied with a little more Texan twang, "Seriously, I don't know what yer talking about."

"You do too," Catherine insisted.

"Honest," Nick replied, holding his hands up, palms out.

"Nick, you do know that you suck at lying," Sara interjected.

"Hey," Nick looked back at Sara, "lying requires that I consciously make a false statement with slanderous intent. I haven't said a thing."

Sara had no response to this.

"Hey guys! What's hap'nen?" came the unmistakable, overzealous voice of Greg Sanders who burst into the room with a slight irritating jingle that imitated from the red dear antlers that sat miraculously atop his outlandishly spiky hair. The pleasantly idiotic image earned a chuckle from everybody in the room.

Greg milked the attention for a few more seconds, shaking his head slightly to make the little golden bells on his antlers jingle some more.

Then he asked, "So, what's going on guys?"

"Not much," Nick piped up. "Catherine's just groucing, cause she has to work on Christmas eave."

"Aw," Greg looked at Catherine, "C'mon now, Sar-I mean-Catherine."

Sara thwacked Greg on the back of his head as she went to sit down on the small break room couch.

"Yea," Warrick added as he followed Sara and leaned againsted the end of the couch, "You're not the only one. We all gotta work too."

"Yes, but I have a daughter who's going to be pissed at me."

"True," Warrick conceded.

"That may be so, Catherine," Greg went on to add,"but, as we all know, crime never stops. Not even on Christmas."

Everyone in the room fell silent, agreeing with Greg's point, but also stunned at the almost 'Grissom-like' comment.

"So, anyway," Every one snapped out of their musings to look at Sara hwo now took center stage. "Is it just me? Or is Grissom late?"

"He's always late," came Catherine's unenthusiastic reply.

"-er," Sara added.

The additional sylable earned a slight chuckle from Nick.

By that time, the sound of lauphing could be heard in the background. At first, this was ignored-every one just thinking that someone had either just told a really good joke, or had fallen flat on their face-and thus was not addressed. But soon, the CSI's and Greg the Raindeer, all started exchanging funny looks when theynoticed the laughter, not tapering off, but, in fact, getting lowder, as if it was coming closer. Soon it sounded as if the entire lab was doubled over laughing.

Sara glanced around in confusion, then noticed Nick in a state similar to that of the rest of the lab.

"I fail to see what's so funny."

Nick just bit his lip and shook his head in an effort not to burst out laughing.

Everyone having noticed Nick's piculiar bevior, by that point, was now looking intently at him, wondering why on Earth the man was trying so hard not to laughe. So, with everyone distracted and slightly worried, of course, nobody noticed the man that had just arrived at the breakroom door.

"Good evening, everyone."

Said 'everyone' hirled around at the sound of their boss' voice.

Every jaw jaw in the room seemed to hit the floor at once. Accept for Nick's, because now he was biting his lips together in an effort to keep quiet.

Grissom just stood in the doorway, grinning. He waited for someone to speak up.

Warrick and Sara looked like they were trying to say something, but for some reason, their voices seemed to have run away, screaming. Catherine didn't even bother trying because she knew there were no words that could possibly describe what she was seeing. And Nick simply couldn't, because now he was in tears, having seen everyones' expression, and thus, had finally fallen into a fit of uncotrollable hystaria.

Greg-bless his soul-was the first to speek up.

"Well, that blows my outfit out the window."

Grissom turned his rare smile to Greg and took in the sight of the rediculous antlers. Then, unbelievable happened; he laughed-not chuckled-not humfed-but actually out-right laughed. The jesture crincled his eyes, reavealed that bottom row of crooked teeth, and shook his shoulders, giving him an all around 'jolly ol' Santa' look that matched his outfit perfectly.

"Well this sertainly is..." Grissom looked over at Sara who now spoke. "un expected.'

"Yea," Warrick piped up,"It wouln't have been quite as suprizing if it was Greg or Jolly Ol' St Nick, here." He motioned to Nick, who was far gone by this point.

"You...of all people..." Catherineattempted in her slight state of shock.

"Good look for you, though," Warrick added.

"He even has his own beard," Greg pointed out.

"Yea, but I distinctly recall Santa's beard being a shade or two lighter," Sara replied.

"You think Santa uses Rogain?"

Grissom beamed at all his coworkers, feeling like his Santa outfit had lightened up the mood in the dreary building. (By about 5 decimals, judgingby the sound of it.) The usual murmer of the staff had evolved into something akin to a roar.

By then, Nick was beginning to come to after nearly aughing himself unconcious. Grissom felt warm all over at seeing his lover in such a state. It felt nice.

Grissom plopped down on the small couch, feeling like he was being far too flippent about all of this, but not really caring all that much.

Without warning, Sara scooted over and sat herself on Grissom's knee. Oh yes, he was, indeed, being far too flippent.

"Hey Santa, can I get a raise?"

Almost everyone laughed at this-Grissom as well-and Sara moved back to her seat on the couch.

However, nobody other than Grissom seemed to have noticed the way Nick had suddenly sobered up. While everyone was distracted, joking about Sara's little stunt, Grissom stole a glance at Nick, and was somewhat frightened.

The smile was still there, but there was a fiery gleam in his eyes that clearly said 'mine'. Grissom grined at him and winked, and was releaved to see the possessive hostillity practically melt away.

Eventually, the team calmed itself down and Grissom started passing out assignments, but not without the occasional joke, or snicker, or "Yes sir, Santa."


End file.
